Falling Away

by Penelope Douglas

  I bared my teeth, getting in her face. “Every time you needed something during the past two years, I was there.”

  Her chest rose and fell, and she looked as if she could barely catch her breath. “You stalked me?”

  “Yeah, get over yourself,” I shot back, swinging myself around the banister and heading for the kitchen. “I didn’t read your e-mails or steal your underwear.”

  “Why?” I heard her footsteps behind me. “Why did you do it?”

  I let out a bitter laugh, heading for the refrigerator. “It really bugs you, doesn’t it?” I grabbed a bottle of water and slammed the door shut. “You’re so insecure about what others think that you can’t stand that I had my hands in your business without your knowledge, right? You’re worried. ‘What does he know? What did he see?’ ”

  Her fists were little, but they were clenched tight, and her face was flushed with anger. “Why?” she repeated.

  “Leave it—”

  “Answer a fucking question for once!”

  “Because I was worried about you!” I shouted, vaulting the water bottle down the hallway.

  I stood there, watching her pull back and stand up straight, shock written all over her face.

  Running a rough hand through my hair, I fisted the short locks, all of a sudden missing the long ones I’d had just this morning.

  The sweat on my scalp had cooled, and I reached back and pulled my shirt over my head. Tossing it on a chair, I stood with my hands at my hips, trying to calm down.

  I walked toward her, seeing her inch back to the wall.

  “About a month after you left for college,” I started, “we were getting things going at the Loop. Renovations, construction … ” I trailed off, licking my dry lips. “Your mother filed a petition with the city trying to stop us. She hated the Loop, thought it attracted trouble, so she got some support behind her and ran with it.”

  Juliet looked up me, seeming so small. I’d wanted to protect her. I’d wanted to make sure she was happy.

  I continued. “She wouldn’t have won. Most of the town looks at the Loop as a commodity,” I assured her. “But she could have stalled things, so I investigated her.”

  “For skeletons in the closet,” Juliet inferred. “To blackmail her.”

  “For leverage,” I corrected. “To persuade her.”

  Juliet crossed her arms over her chest, waiting for me to continue.

  I took a deep breath. “She had a daughter listed in her personal information. No surprise, except the daughter was named Juliet Adrian Carter. This confused me, because K. C. Carter or any name starting with a K didn’t show up.” I eyed her. “So I started digging. And when you told me your story, I—”

  “You already knew.” She cut me off, her eyes pooling with tears. “You just let me confide in you like an idiot while you sat there listening to the same sordid shit you already knew.”

  “No.” I tipped her chin back to look at me, but she jerked away. “I didn’t listen to the story. I listened to you, okay? You were talking to me. You were trusting me. I didn’t know shit about you—not really—until I heard it from your lips. I read about you, but I didn’t know you.”

  She looked away, shaking her head. She didn’t believe me.

  “The more I found out about you,” I continued, trying to make her understand, “the more I couldn’t let you go. One thing led to another, and I …” I hesitated and swallowed. “I wanted to be there for you. I accessed your class schedule to see how you were doing.”

  She ran her hands over her face, turning away, but I grabbed her shoulders and turned her back to me.

  “I found out you were struggling in a math class, so I set off the sprinklers the morning of the midterm. Shitty thing to do, I know. But I figured extra time to study was welcome. After that, I … I just kept an eye on you, okay?”

  I’d never intended to invade her privacy, and as easy as it would’ve been or as much as I wanted to, I never went into her e-mail, social networks, or medical records. I actually tried to talk myself into it. Lots of times. Sure, I’d just be making sure she was healthy. I’d just be making sure no one was harassing her. I’d just be making sure her asshole boyfriend wasn’t screwing around. But I never did any of that. I wasn’t trying to control her. I just wanted to take care of her.

  At least, that was all I hoped it was.

  “I didn’t feel like you had anyone,” I admitted. “It wasn’t pity. It was actually kind of a relief to know your life wasn’t perfect. I felt like we had one thing that connected us, that made us different from our friends, and I didn’t want you to be alone.” And I rushed to add, “I knew that being away at school was probably more freedom than you’d ever had. I wanted you to love it. I wanted to make things easier for you. That’s all.”

  She squeezed her eyes shut, tears running down her cheeks as she bowed her head into her hand.

  “So you know everything,” she cried. “You knew about my father. That the day after he cut me, he slashed his wrists. Because he could never forgive himself for my sister.”

  Yeah, I knew that, too. How could a father forgive himself for causing the death of his own child?

  I nodded. “It was the middle of the night,” I almost whispered. “Your sister had gotten out of bed. He thought she was an intruder. It was a terrible accident.”

  Her head hung low, and she wiped her tears.

  “He killed himself to protect you,” I said. “He thought he was going to hurt another daughter.”

  She looked up. “He did anyway, didn’t he?” Her voice grew strong again. “He left me with her. Wouldn’t you resent him for that? I mean, what about your mother, huh?” she asked. “She left you with your father.”

  I slid my hand into my pocket, instantly feeling the comfort of the knife. “Yeah. So?”

  “Well, don’t you hate her?”

  I wrapped my fingers around the thick plastic of the handle. “I don’t know,” I mumbled.

  She smiled angrily, shaking her head. “Neither do I. I know nothing about you. You give me nothing.”

  “Because it’s all just shit!” I barked, running my hands through my hair. “I don’t want you to know those things about me. I don’t want it dirtying anything I have with you.” I leaned in, cupping her face, but she slapped my hands away again.

  “You won’t have anything with me!” she spat out, turning to leave.

  “The fuck I won’t.” I yanked her back, every fucking muscle in my body solid stone as I pressed my body into hers, pushing her into the wall. “Come on. Admit it. This is all you really want from me anyway, isn’t it?” I seethed, forcing my mouth on hers in a rough, angry kiss. “Yeah,” I whispered hard. “It’s what they all want from me, Juliet.”

  “Jax!” Her voice trembled as her arms tried to push me away. “Stop it!”

  I yanked her loose top down over her shoulders, exposing her in her bra. “Oh, come on, Juliet.” I held her tight. “I’ll fuck you so good. You can go tell all your friends that you finally had your turn, and that I was such a good time,” I growled. “They can all get their places in line.”

  I pulled the knife out of my pocket and hit the button, the blade shooting out. “You’re going to love this. They all do.” And with the speed of a bullet, I slipped the knife under her bra, between her breasts, and sliced the material.

  “Stop!” She brought up her hands, covering herself and crying.

  “Isn’t this what you wanted?” I bellowed, getting in her face and pushing her and pushing myself, falling over the edge and knowing that I was going to hit bottom sooner or later.

  Fuck!

  I gripped the blade in my fist. “Aren’t you finally fucking happy now?” I yelled, and reached up, punching the wall above us, sinking the blade into the plaster.

  She cried out, and I nearly fell on my ass when she launched off the wall and wrapped her arms around me, stunning me silent.

  I stood there, wide-eyed and not breathing. Her arms tigh
tened around my neck, blanketing me in warmth, and I closed my eyes, my rabid heartbeat pounding in my ears.

  Juliet. A tear spilled out of the corner of my eye, falling over my cheekbone. Fuck, what was I doing?

  “It’s okay,” she whispered, her shaking lips wet against my chest. “It’s okay.”

  I wasn’t sure if she was trying to assure herself or me, but she wasn’t running. Why wasn’t she running?

  I stayed, unable to open my eyes, unable to move. The world spun around me, and I felt like I was swaying and about to fall. What the hell’s wrong with me? I might’ve hurt her. I’d never hurt a woman. Except one.

  I squeezed my eyes tighter. Oh, Jesus. I wrapped an arm around her waist and put my other hand on her face, holding her to my chest.

  “Shh,” I soothed, running my hand down her hair. “I’m sorry.”

  Her body trembled in my arms as she tried to catch her breath, but she quieted and slowly relaxed her hold around my neck. All I felt was the heat of her lips against my skin, and I knew one thing.

  I wanted her more than I wanted my secrets.

  “I like knives, Juliet,” I confessed, still stroking her hair. “When you see someone getting shot on TV, they look shocked. It’s over too quickly.” I forced my raspy voice to stay steady. “A cut is different. As you know. It’s pain, followed by fear.”

  She pulled back, covering her naked chest as she looked up at me and listened.

  I reached up and pulled the knife out of the wall, making sure to hold it gently.

  “I don’t even need to use it,” I pointed out. “People know that I have it, and that’s enough.”

  Her pained green eyes looked between me and the knife.

  “But there was one time when I needed to use a knife, Juliet. One time when I was tired of being hungry, tired of bleeding, tired of them touching me where they weren’t supposed to … tired of being afraid and being alone.”

  Her lips trembled, but she stood strong as she whispered, “What did you do?”

  I let out a small laugh. “Yeah, that’s what people want to know, isn’t it? What happened? How did they hurt you? How did they touch you? Where did they touch you? How many times did it happen? Fuck.” I laughed to myself, my eyes blurring and my jaw aching with tears I wouldn’t let go.

  But I swallowed down the pain and locked eyes with her. “I need to remember how I survived. Not what I suffered,” I said. “How I fought, and not how I hurt.”

  She looked up at me, trying to understand.

  “I’m not the kid wearing filthy clothes to school anymore.” I sheathed the blade and stuck it in my pocket. “I stopped throwing up half of what I eat. I don’t beg for them to stop. I don’t cower in corners, hide in closets, or fear coming home.”

  That was all I needed to remember. All that was important.

  “I’m not cold,” I said. “I’m not hungry. I’m not helpless. I’m not scared. And I’m not always alone anymore.”

  That was what I wanted her to understand about what I’d been through. About what she’d been through. The more you suffered, the more you survived. It shaped people in different ways, and what broke one person could empower another.

  We were the lucky ones.

  She looked at me with weary eyes and nodded, finally understanding.

  Bringing her hands up, she held my face, rubbing circles with her thumbs. “What did you do, Jax?” she asked.

  I closed my eyes, bowing my forehead to hers. “I made them stop.”

  She nodded, accepting. “Good.”

  “What are you doing?”

  I sat at the kitchen table, watching Juliet walk from one end of the kitchen to the other, gathering food out of the refrigerator as well as pots and pans from the cabinets.

  “Making you dinner,” she replied. “We didn’t get to go out for pizza, remember?”

  I let out a sigh, rolling my eyes. “I don’t give a damn about food,” I said, watching her in her bare feet. “You’re wearing my T-shirt. You may as well be naked, for Christ’s sake. I want to touch you.”

  “You can have dessert if you finish your supper.”

  I dropped my head back, clutching the armrests. This was ridiculous.

  Ten minutes ago we were screaming at each other, five minutes ago I had my knife out, and now she was acting all calm as if we’d both just woken from a peaceful nap.

  It was insane.

  After I’d told her that I’d rid the planet of two child abusers, she kissed me, sat me down, and stripped out of her ruined clothes to put on my white V-neck. All calm. As if I’d just told her that I’d stolen a candy bar instead of stabbing two people when I was thirteen. She was either losing her fucking mind or trying to distract me.

  And if that was her goal, it was working. The T-shirt hung down to just below her ass, and I couldn’t take my eyes off her.

  “What are you making?” I pressed, getting irritated.

  “Steak.”

  “I don’t want a steak.” I shot out of the chair.

  Walking over to her, I held her hips from behind as she worked at the stove. “Stop acting weird. Either fuck me or yell at me. You have to have something to say about what I just told you.”

  She turned around, arched a mama eyebrow, and shot out her pointed finger, directing me to my chair like a child.

  “Now,” she ordered.

  I groaned, raked my hand through my hair again, and plopped my ass back down in my seat.

  And then my heart lodged in my throat when she leaned over to grab rubber bands off the window sill and her thong-clad ass peeked out from beneath the shirt.

  I chewed the corner of my mouth as I watched her tie back her hair in two low pigtails under each ear. My dick swelled, crowding the slim fucking pants Madoc had told me to buy.

  “Oh, my God,” I groaned. “Pigtails?” I blurted out. “Baby, please.” And I stood up to go to her again, but she spun around with a murderous look in her eyes.

  “Sit!” she commanded, and I dropped my ass back in the chair, letting out a growl.

  So I waited. Silent and docile for once in my life. Fifteen minutes of absolute torture before she was done.

  She grilled some steak on the stove, steamed some vegetables, and chopped everything up, piling it into a large bowl.

  But as hard as it was and as much as my mouth watered for something other than the food, I loved watching her in my house. I’d had the kitchen remodeled along with much of the rest of the place, and now I was glad. I wanted her to be happy here. To cook here. To sleep here. To feel good here.

  Her slender feet padded along the dark slate tile that I’d picked out myself, and she explored the insides of the new dark cherry cabinets I’d put in. The stainless steel appliances and the granite countertops were the best money could buy, but for the first time I was wondering if someone else liked it other than me. Did she feel at home here?

  Jared had liked the renovations, but his taste was different. He and Tate kept trying to talk me into black this and black that, but I wasn’t feeling it. I loved black, but my home was a different matter. It had to be warm.

  Juliet came over, set down two bottles of water, and then grabbed the bowl with a fork. She parked her ass on the table in front of me and started stirring up the food.

  Yeah. No.

  I grabbed her hips, slid her off the table, and sat her in my lap, straddling me.

  She grinned to herself, her tone amused. “Okay, now you can touch me.”

  She stabbed a piece of steak and broccoli and held it up to me.

  I pulled back. “With your fingers.”

  She nodded, stuck the food in her mouth, and put the fork down on the table as she chewed. Reaching into the bowl, she took a chunk of meat and held it up to my mouth.

  I opened, taking the bite and closing my lips around her soft fingers. Her eyelids fluttered, and her throat bobbed up and down as she slid them out. I barely tasted the food.

  I wished I could touch her and
not feel what was happening in my chest. I wished I could look at her and know that it would be easy to let her go at some point.

  But as she sat there feeding me with her fingers, wearing my T-shirt, sporting her pigtails, her legs spread over my thighs, and her feet dangling six inches above the floor, I knew that I was completely at the mercy of someone nearly half my size.

  I was hers.

  She fed me another bite and leaned into my hand when I caressed her face.

  “Do the police know about what you did?” She spoke softly.

  I nodded. “Yes. It’s been taken care of,” I assured her. “I didn’t want that hanging over my head.”

  That was the perk of having connections. Ciaran—a gunrunner and drug dealer with resources. Madoc’s dad—one of the best defensive attorneys in the state. And the police—whom I’d worked with supplying favors and getting them in return. No one was going to come after a kid who did what he had to do in a horrific situation.

  Of course, my father thought the bodies were still buried in an unmarked grave. And for now, I’d let him think that.

  “Will your father come here when he gets out?” she asked, and I ran my hands up and down her thighs, understanding her worry.

  “It’s possible,” I said. “Very possible.”

  She put the bowl down, and I pulled her into me, kissing her beautiful soft lips. I couldn’t let my father show up here. Now I understood what Jared’s worry was. He wasn’t concerned about himself. He needed to protect Tate and me. The people he loved.

  And I needed to protect Juliet. Even the idea of my father seeing her …

  I wrapped my arms around her waist, squeezing tight.

  “They mean nothing, you know?” she said into my neck. “They don’t deserve us.”

  Meaning, our parents.

  “Nothing,” I repeated.

  Her arms circled my neck, and I dived into the kiss, wanting to get happily lost. She rolled her hips into me, and I grabbed her ass as I ate up her taste and smell. God, she was incredible.

  Breathing hard, I lifted the shirt over her head and dumped it on the floor. I kissed my way up her warm neck and splayed my hands across her back. My fingertips touched the silkiest skin I’d ever felt.